


Blessings in the Mail

by snugmin (snowdrops)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Donghae the Postman, Hangeng the Barista, M/M, Morning Routines, Ryeowook the Composer, Slice of Life, Sungmin the Artist, alternate universe - postman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/snugmin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sungmin’s neighbourhood postman changes, he doesn’t expect it to be the start of anything new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessings in the Mail

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. 
> 
> Lee Donghae, Lee Sungmin, Kim Ryeowook and other characters in this story are by no means my property. They belong to themselves only, and I write only to fulfill my creative whim and fancies.

Sungmin hears the sound of the motorcycle as it revs up the quiet morning streets of Ilsan. It sounds slightly different from usual, but he doesn’t put much thought into it as he grabs his usual beige coat and heads for the door.

When he steps out of his house and turns the key in the lock, he does not expect to hear a chirpy “Good morning!” from the road. He turns around and gives the source of the shout a onceover.

The person in question is wearing a light blue uniform and a postman’s cap, a satchel slung over his back as he jumps off his motorcycle in front of Sungmin’s house. Strange, Sungmin’s never seen him before.

“Good morning,” Sungmin greets politely with a small smile.

The postman smiles back at him before rummaging through his bag for whatever letters he’s supposed to pass to Sungmin. “It’s a bit early to be going out, don’t you think?” He has a strange lilt to his voice. Definitely not from around here, Sungmin thinks.

Sungmin chuckles a bit. “Morning’s the only time that you get some quiet around Ilsan.”

“True, nights are always rowdy in the city…. Lee Sungmin-sshi?” The postman says, fishing out three envelopes at last and looking at the name on each.

Sungmin nods. “Yes, that’s me.” He reaches out to take the letters from the postman. He scans the letters – ah, a particularly thick one from Incheon. Ryeowook hadn’t forgotten to write him! The other two are bills. He groans internally.

“Those suck,” the postman says, gesturing at the bills in Sungmin’s hand and making a face. “It’s the time of the month again. I’ve been delivering bills to pretty much every house along this street today.”

Sungmin lets out a sigh. “Can’t do anything about that. Thanks a lot…?”

“Donghae,” the postman says, his face breaking out into a wide grin. Sungmin thinks it fits him. “Lee Donghae. I’ll get going now, Sungmin-sshi. See you if I see you!”

Sungmin smiles and turns back to the house to drop the envelopes through the mail slot in the door. He’ll open them when he gets back.

* * *

Ryeowook’s letter is full of smudges and scribbles, and he’s enclosed a few photographs of himself and his family. It’s been a long time since the younger boy last returned home to Incheon despite it being only two hours away; his happiness is evident to Sungmin in the way he glows in the photographs.

Enclosed in the envelope is a music sheet, written with a fine black pen and certain parts circled with pencil. The top of the sheet has a small note from Ryeowook: _Hyung, I wrote this the other day. How does it sound to you? ^^ Love, Ryeonggu._

Sungmin smiles to himself as he brings the music sheet to the piano sitting in the living room. Ryeowook, who is majoring in Composition at Gachon Institute’s School of Music, has always had a habit of composing songs on the go and sharing them with Sungmin when he comes back to Ilsan. It’s routine by now for Sungmin to guess what the song is about.

The younger boy stays with him in Ilsan during term time, despite it being a further distance from school than his own house in Incheon. Sungmin has never understood the logic behind this, but he lets it go anyway, because it’s Ryeowook and it’s good to have company on the ninety-minute journey to Seongnam in the mornings.

He scans the music sheet again, noting the andante that Ryeowook has written in bold. He places hands to keys, and hears the music spill out. The notes are played at mezzo piano, but come together in a jovial sort of manner with a quiet energy that reminds him of morning walks around Ilsan.

He can hear Ryeowook’s own unique tune underneath the melody that he is playing, the musical signature that he has grown accustomed to hearing late at night as he works on his artworks. It makes him miss burning midnight oil as he looks for perfection on canvas and in fluid brush strokes, makes him miss microwaving dumplings at three in the morning as the rest of Ilsan lies in deep sleep.

The song ends and Sungmin lets out a breath. He knows what Ryeowook is saying. He hasn’t known the younger boy for almost all his life without being able to understand his thoughts even from a different city.

_It’s about Ilsan, isn’t it, Ryeowookie? I miss you too._

* * *

 

The morning mist is heavy when Sungmin steps out of his door the next day. He pulls the coat tightly around himself as he walks down the road, lost in thought and introspection. Morning is the only time that Sungmin can find some semblance of peace outside his house, before rush hour takes over and the city stirs from its slumber.

He wanders around the neighbourhood, following his usual route until he reaches his favourite café, a quaint little hole-in-the-wall named Café H. The owner of the store recognizes Sungmin by now thanks to his daily visits, and always makes his coffee just the way he likes it.

“Good morning to you, Sungmin-sshi,” the owner greets over the stirring of a drink in a ceramic cup.

“Good morning, Hankyung-sshi,” Sungmin says. “Just a coffee will do.”

Hankyung smiles and tells him to take a seat. “It’s cold outside today. Not the best of times to be out, Sungmin-sshi.”

Sungmin nods. Outside the window, the sky is tinted grey. It looks like rain, he thinks to himself. If the winds keep up, he won’t make it back home in time to avoid the rain.

Even as he thinks so, it begins to pour, big fat droplets splattering the window he is sitting beside. Oh well, the thing about him being on holiday is that he has no schedule to tie him down. From the magazine rack near the door, he fishes out the daily newspaper and begins to read.

Just as Hankyung serves him the coffee, the glass door of the café opens and there is a shout of “Hyung!” that sounds too loud to be from outside, where the rain is pouring.

Looking up, Sungmin sees a person soaked to the bone, his brown hair matted with the water that drips from him.

“Good morning, Donghae-yah,” Hankyung says without missing a beat. Sungmin blinks at the name. _Donghae?_ “The weather’s nasty today, how about I lend you a dry set of clothes?”

 “Hyung, you’re a godsend I swear,” the newcomer says, raking a hand through his hair and spraying water everywhere. “I’ll return them to you by Thursday! And a large hot chocolate would be good too!”

“Coming right up,” Hankyung says as he prepares the drink and rummages through some drawers near the counter, where he fishes out a set of casual clothes and throws them to Donghae.

Donghae comes back not three minutes later, the clothes looking baggy on him but he has a wide grin on his face as he leans over the counter to thank Hankyung. Sungmin is contemplating going up to say hello, when Donghae turns around and notices him.

“Ah! Sungmin-sshi!” he bounds over to Sungmin’s table – Sungmin cannot find any other verb to describe the way Donghae moves; he is practically radiating energy. “Didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Neither did I, Donghae-sshi,” Sungmin says with a smile. “Were you delivering mail?”

“Yes,” Donghae sighs and stretches himself. “Awful weather. It’s a good thing I finished delivering everything before it started pouring. So, why are you here?”

“He comes here every morning,” Hankyung answers before Sungmin can, as he walks over to their table (when did Donghae sit down? Sungmin can’t remember) with Donghae’s hot chocolate. “It’s a routine now, a day in here doesn’t feel right if I don’t see Sungmin-sshi around.”  

Sungmin flushes. “Don’t say it like that. This is a really nice café after all, and your coffee is the best around here. You and Donghae-sshi seem to know each other well?”

Donghae, who is drinking his hot chocolate like he hasn’t had any liquid since a week ago, nods excitedly. “Hankyung-hyung’s my adopted brother’s best friend!”

Sungmin blinks, trying to register the connection. Hankyung laughs at Donghae, patting the other on the back. “Donghae’s from Mokpo, which explains the accent. My best friend and flatmate is his adopted brother, and he drops by here sometimes when he’s hungry or thirsty.” Chuckling at Donghae’s pout and protests that he is no freeloader, Hankyung says that Donghae came to Ilsan to earn money for further education. “But he doesn’t want to work here even though it’s much safer than being a postman, right?”

“Staying cooped up indoors all day is boring, hyung! At least I get to explore the neighborhood and talk to new people when I deliver mail! How else do you think I would have met Sungmin-sshi?”

Hankyung shakes his head fondly and goes back to the counter when a couple, protected only by their umbrella, stumble in through the door.

“Um. So,” Donghae scratches his head, looking all too awkward and cute at the same time. Sungmin doesn’t even register that observation until he _has_ already thought it. “Sungmin-sshi, are you studying?”

* * *

 

He reaches home slightly after three that afternoon, six hours after he walked into Café H.

He has learnt that Donghae, who is temporarily staying in Hankyung’s flat, has two adopted older brothers named Yunho and Heechul. Heechul is Hankyung’s flatmate, while Yunho is staying in Gwangju with their foster family. He has also learnt that Donghae’s mouth is a machine gun that doesn’t stop until he has exhausted all possible distractions and afterthoughts, which is equal parts fascinating and frustrating to Sungmin.

He has also invited Donghae over to dinner tomorrow night, on the basis that both of them could do with some company instead of eating their meals alone.

Now he has something to write Ryeowook about. He hums as he pulls out his letter paper, and begins to write. Halfway through the letter to Ryeowook, he remembers that he hasn’t checked his mail today.

* * *

 

It is eleven in the morning and Sungmin is drawing on his sketchpad. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s drawing, but he just sets pencil to paper and begins to draw.

A flower – a rose, to be exact. Two cups – his and Ryeowook’s. A piano. The roads of Ilsan. A mailbox. A cup of coffee, with a few cubes of brown sugar next to it. A draft for the latest freelance advertorial he is designing.

When he is done, it’s already half past two. He fixes himself a simple bowl of ramen and goes back to the piano, where he is playing when there is a knock on the door. “Sungmin-sshi!”

Donghae is very early. Three hours early.

“Don’t mind me, just continue what you’re doing,” Donghae says as he stands in the living room and visually takes apart Sungmin’s house, exploring every nook and cranny and leafing through the newspaper on the coffee table.

He gets distracted though, when Sungmin starts playing Ryeowook’s composition.

“That sounds… peaceful,” Donghae says. Sungmin hadn’t even realized that he had moved to stand behind the piano bench. “It sounds like morning walks on roads littered with flower petals.”

“Ryeowook, my house-mate during term time composed it in Incheon and sent it to me via snail mail,” Sungmin tells him. “It was one of the letters you passed to me two days back.”

To his surprise, Donghae remembers. Sungmin thought he would have forgotten.

“I’ve always wanted to learn music, but never had the money to. Or time. Even though I got the most out of the three of us, because Heechul-hyung and Yunho-hyung would give me the best, music was something our family couldn’t afford.” Donghae’s eyes are full of a lost whimsicality as he places his fingers on the piano keys. “The only thing we had were our voices. We used to call ourselves the Three Seasons, and we’d say that someday we’d find our fourth season. I tried to learn as much from Heechul-hyung and Yunho-hyung as I could. Yunho-hyung is really good at dancing, and Heechul-hyung has a nice voice even though he’s really lazy.”

Sungmin feels a pang of affection for the other at these words. He doesn’t know why Donghae is telling him all this, because he is actually really bad at offering any help besides a listening ear and he has known Donghae for a grand total of three days, so he just blurts out what he’s thinking without thinking twice. (Later, in the back of his mind, he wonders why this is happening so frequently nowadays.)

 “Why don’t you sing?”

“Eh? Now?” the surprise in Donghae’s voice is apparent, but when Sungmin nods he takes a deep breath and begins to sing anyway.

“ _This night is blessing the day that we met. The moon is out in the sky and the stars are smiling_.” Sungmin closes his eyes; Donghae’s voice is warm and accented. Sungmin wonders why the song sounds vaguely familiar, as if he has heard it before. “ _I wish that your smile won’t be erased as I pray for these happy days to always continue…_ ”

Donghae’s voice trails off shyly, his palms moving to cup his face. “Ah, this is so embarrassing, I’ve never sung in front of anybody else besides my family,” he says into his palms and Sungmin chuckles.

“You have a good voice. Sing more.”

“Really?” Donghae flushes again, his eyes shining. “That song is my favourite. It’s called Believe. Heechul-hyung says a Korean boyband adapted the lyrics, it was originally by a Japanese band.”

Suddenly it clicks. “The Japanese band is EXILE! One of my favourite Japanese groups,“ Sungmin grins like an idiot. “No wonder it sounded familiar. But really, Donghae-sshi, sing more. It’s a waste if you don’t.”

He is rewarded with a smile that takes away his breath, just a little.

**Author's Note:**

> (i) References have been taken from various websites as listed here.  
> translation of Super Junior’s Believe taken from here - http://elfishy1015.blogspot.sg/2011/11/believe-translation.html
> 
> Sungmin and Ryeowook are both studying at Gachon University in Seongnam. Sungmin is majoring in Visual Design, and Ryeowook is majoring in Composition. - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gachon_University
> 
> Seongnam is further from Ilsan (Gyeonggi-do) compared to Incheon, but Ryeowook stays with Sungmin in Ilsan instead of Incheon with his family. Don’t ask me why. Minwook have their secrets too. –  
> http://tong.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/SI/map_info/images/Gyeonggi-do/default.gif
> 
> Also, yes, the Three Seasons reference of Yunho and Heechul is in relation to the almost-group Four Seasons.
> 
> (ii) I’m trying to get back my writing muse. Can’t say that I’m succeeding, but I really wanted to write some Haemin because my heart is itching so badly. Hence, this fic. And postman!Donghae is something I really want to see. Sue me.


End file.
